ODE TO L.J.
Black, sleek
cat chic.
Loose-limbed she lies
having lazed all day,
receiving life like a queen,
God’s well-rested being.
A paradox of wildness and obligingness
that great cat essence
hangs from her petite frame.
I named her Lady Jane.
cat chic.
Loose-limbed she lies
having lazed all day,
receiving life like a queen,
God’s well-rested being.
A paradox of wildness and obligingness
that great cat essence
hangs from her petite frame.
I named her Lady Jane.
Forget nine lives, what impresses me?
Her myriad of personalities.
Each day I must begin anew
her ever-elusive trust to woo.
There’s Jane, the sphinx, inscrutable
whose upright head sleeping seems unmoveable.
Then on the edge of my highest chair
the terrain-scoping eyes of a vulture. Beware!
At sweet light’s out, my pillow-sharing teddy bear
(have you ever dreamed a motorboat was parting your hair?)
Her myriad of personalities.
Each day I must begin anew
her ever-elusive trust to woo.
There’s Jane, the sphinx, inscrutable
whose upright head sleeping seems unmoveable.
Then on the edge of my highest chair
the terrain-scoping eyes of a vulture. Beware!
At sweet light’s out, my pillow-sharing teddy bear
(have you ever dreamed a motorboat was parting your hair?)
And just when you’ve marked her as lazy
she commences cleaning herself like crazy,
pausing suddenly amidst some balletic extension
for a moment’s reconnaissance in every direction.
No matter how many times she’s bathed by me
the ritual generates into World War III.
The neighbors think an ax-wielding crazy
is bludgeoning the life from an innocent baby.
She manages to sustain the heart-rending howl
until she escapes my treacherous towel.
Yet soon, thereafter, how pleased she seems
with her soft and shiny (non-itch) sheen.
she commences cleaning herself like crazy,
pausing suddenly amidst some balletic extension
for a moment’s reconnaissance in every direction.
No matter how many times she’s bathed by me
the ritual generates into World War III.
The neighbors think an ax-wielding crazy
is bludgeoning the life from an innocent baby.
She manages to sustain the heart-rending howl
until she escapes my treacherous towel.
Yet soon, thereafter, how pleased she seems
with her soft and shiny (non-itch) sheen.
Every so often, she’ll hide for hours at a time.
The futility of searching drives me out of my mind.
That black liquid body most anywhere she’ll squish
surfacing only at whoosh of can-opener on tunafish.
Another enticement is when I am prone
on the carpet entranced by a meditation tape’s drone.
From nowhere she’ll bounce onto my abdomen
and ride out my constriction, the little demon!
When dinner’s past due, she offers near intelligible chiding;
as I hasten to fix it, she’s against my calves gliding.
The futility of searching drives me out of my mind.
That black liquid body most anywhere she’ll squish
surfacing only at whoosh of can-opener on tunafish.
Another enticement is when I am prone
on the carpet entranced by a meditation tape’s drone.
From nowhere she’ll bounce onto my abdomen
and ride out my constriction, the little demon!
When dinner’s past due, she offers near intelligible chiding;
as I hasten to fix it, she’s against my calves gliding.
Reading or writing, I peer over a black landscape of body.
Sometimes she’ll manage to block the view entirely.
I remove her with a struggle (tooth and nail).
I win the battle, but her persistence prevails.
Not long after, she’s rematerialized, cozier than ever.
How can you not yield to a critter this clever?
As for unconditional loving, she’s the absolute first
having endured me sad, sloppy, angry . . . at my lethargic worst.
She’s kept all the secrets, my precious, mute friend.
Such a small vital presence; such a mighty godsend!
Sometimes she’ll manage to block the view entirely.
I remove her with a struggle (tooth and nail).
I win the battle, but her persistence prevails.
Not long after, she’s rematerialized, cozier than ever.
How can you not yield to a critter this clever?
As for unconditional loving, she’s the absolute first
having endured me sad, sloppy, angry . . . at my lethargic worst.
She’s kept all the secrets, my precious, mute friend.
Such a small vital presence; such a mighty godsend!
---------------
You wash your cat ??
Nice glimpse, Libby. Sheesh, all my cats ever did wash wash themselves.
Lovely poem, though.
Nice glimpse, Libby. Sheesh, all my cats ever did wash wash themselves.
Lovely poem, though.
Thanks, Kim. She had a skin problem for a time and vet recommended. Shampooing helped. This was my first cat and she passed on very long ago. In past year I lost two cats from old age. Second one just last month and am still mourning. Haven't rallied to write their odes yet! What a vacuum left when they pass on. All three had such distinct personalities. When I got the pair of kittens after Jane died years ago I expected them to be exactly like her. They were so different from her and from each other. Like people. Lots of different temperaments in living creatures! best, libby
Sorry to hear L.J. has passed on. Happy to hear she was loved.
My last two, Tabasco and Grey One, were the best company.
That was years ago, but they're still with me, very much. Their personalities influenced my life, I'm happy to report.
I love dogs too, and horses, and rabbits ... but there's something about cats ...
My last two, Tabasco and Grey One, were the best company.
That was years ago, but they're still with me, very much. Their personalities influenced my life, I'm happy to report.
I love dogs too, and horses, and rabbits ... but there's something about cats ...
The 9 Lives of Libby...Poetess being one! R
Wonderful! You've found a creative way to describe many things I've experienced with a cat. What a nightmare if you are forced to bathe even the most docile cat. Lady Jane reminds me of my own Mimi except she was all grey. She once got loose and stayed out for hours one night, we searched the farm terrified the Great Horned Owl had got her. Found her sleeping in the cab of the pickup in the third garage stall. She opened her eyes and looked up at me like I was an idiot for being so frantic.
I'm so sorry to hear of your recent loss, they are the family members who are non-judgemental and direct in asking for what they want. Love and comfort to you.
I'm so sorry to hear of your recent loss, they are the family members who are non-judgemental and direct in asking for what they want. Love and comfort to you.
I've lived with many cats. All lovely and loving except one black tom who challenged me on territory. A great cat but not to be trifled with.
Ogden Nash had a somewhat different perspective, quote:
The trouble with a kitten's that
It soon grows up to be a cat.
Ogden Nash had a somewhat different perspective, quote:
The trouble with a kitten's that
It soon grows up to be a cat.
a thousand smiles and nods, today (how appropos), cinco de meow
Beautiful poem, Libby. Great tribute to a lost friend. R
All of the above! A beautiful tribute to one of life's best blessings.
Oh gosh!
You're writing about a real cat!
I thought this to be an allegorical poem with modern teenagers as its subject.......... ;-)
R
.
You're writing about a real cat!
I thought this to be an allegorical poem with modern teenagers as its subject.......... ;-)
R
.
Cats rule!
"She’s kept all the secrets, my precious, mute friend." Great line that makes so very much sense. R&R ;-)
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